How now the prophetic Oleg is going to take revenge on the unreasonable. How now the prophetic Oleg is going to take revenge on the unreasonable Khazars

How the prophetic Oleg is now going
Take revenge on the unreasonable Khazars;
Their villages and fields for a violent raid
He doomed swords and fires;
With his retinue, in Constantinople armor,
The prince rides across the field on a faithful horse.

From the dark forest, towards him,
An inspired wizard is coming,
Submissive to Perun, the old man alone,
The promises of the future messenger,
In prayers and divination spent the whole century.
And Oleg drove up to the wise old man.

“Tell me, sorcerer, favorite of the gods,
What will happen in my life?
And soon, to the delight of neighbors-enemies,
Will I fill the grave with earth?
Tell me the whole truth, don't be afraid of me:
You will take a horse as a reward for anyone.”

“Magi are not afraid of mighty lords,
And they do not need a princely gift;
Truthful and free is their prophetic language
And friendly with the will of heaven.
The coming years lurk in the mist;
But I see your lot on a bright forehead.

Now remember my word:
Glory to the Warrior is a joy;
Your name is glorified by victory;
Your shield is on the gates of Tsaregrad;
And the waves and the land are submissive to you;
The enemy is jealous of such a wondrous fate.

And the blue sea is a deceptive shaft
In the hours of fatal bad weather,
And a sling, and an arrow, and a crafty dagger
Years spare the winner ...
Under formidable armor you know no wounds;
An invisible guardian is given to the mighty.

Your horse is not afraid of dangerous labors;
He, sensing the master's will,
Then the humble stands under arrows of enemies,
It rushes across the battlefield.
And the cold and cutting him nothing ...
But you will accept death from your horse.”

Oleg chuckled, but
And the eyes were clouded with thought.
In silence, hand leaning on the saddle,
He gets down from his horse sullen;
And a true friend with a farewell hand
And strokes and pats on the neck steep.

“Farewell, my comrade, my faithful servant,
The time has come for us to part;
Now rest! no more footsteps
In your gilded stirrup.
Farewell, be comforted - but remember me.
You, fellow youths, take a horse,

Cover with a blanket, a shaggy carpet,
Take me to my meadow by the bridle;
Bathe; feed with selected grain;
Drink spring water."
And the youths immediately departed with the horse,
And the prince brought another horse.

The prophetic Oleg feasts with the retinue
At the ringing of a cheerful glass.
And their curls are white as morning snow
Above the glorious head of the mound ...
They commemorate days gone by

“Where is my friend? Oleg said.
Tell me, where is my zealous horse?
Are you healthy? Still, is his run easy?
Is he still the same stormy, playful?”
And listens to the answer: on a steep hill
He had long since passed into a sleepless sleep.

Mighty Oleg bowed his head
And he thinks: “What is fortune-telling?
Magician, you deceitful, mad old man!
I would despise your prediction!
My horse would carry me to this day.”
And he wants to see the bones of the horse.

Here comes the mighty Oleg from the yard,
Igor and old guests are with him,
And they see - on a hill, on the banks of the Dnieper,
Noble bones lie;
The rains wash them, their dust falls asleep,
And the wind excites the feather grass above them.

The prince quietly stepped on the horse's skull
And he said: “Sleep, lonely friend!
Your old master has outlived you:
At the funeral feast, not far away,
It's not you who will stain the feather grass under the ax
And drink my ashes with hot blood!

So that's where my death lurked!
The bone threatened me with death!”
From the dead head a coffin snake
Meanwhile, hersing crawled out;
Like a black ribbon wrapped around the legs,
And suddenly the stung prince cried out.

Ladles are circular, foaming, hissing
At the feast of the deplorable Oleg;
Prince Igor and Olga are sitting on a hill;
The squad is feasting at the shore;
Fighters commemorate past days
And the battles where they fought together.

Reading the verse “The Song of the Prophetic Oleg” by Pushkin Alexander Sergeevich, written in 1822, is necessary as a reflection of a young poet on the topic of fate and fate that worried him. Taking a chronicle source as a basis, the poet created an interesting work, similar to an example of a romantic genre - this is a kind of ballad dedicated to the mystery of a person's death, which even the prophetic prince could not comprehend. It is extremely interesting to teach it in a literature lesson in the classroom, because in fact it is a fragment from The Tale of Bygone Years, “translated” into poetic language.

In the text of Pushkin's poem “The Song of the Prophetic Oleg”, the characters described in the annals strictly and sparingly come to life: the character of the prince is contradictory and harsh, the sorcerer he met in the forest is inspired and fearless. While still young, the poet demonstrates his ability to tell vivid, emotional stories. Reading it online in full, it is easy to see the motive of predestination: although the reader wonders what exactly caused Oleg's death, the fact that his fate was predicted long before that is constantly emphasized by the author. The work also indirectly reveals the relationship between the poet and the authorities - Pushkin's views are embodied in the dialogue between the sorcerer and the prince.

How the prophetic Oleg is now going
Take revenge on the unreasonable Khazars,
Their villages and fields for a violent raid
He doomed swords and fires;
With his retinue, in Constantinople armor,
The prince rides across the field on a faithful horse.
From the dark forest towards him
There is an inspired magician,
Submissive to Perun, the old man alone,
The promises of the future messenger,
In prayers and divination spent the whole century.
And Oleg drove up to the wise old man.
"Tell me, sorcerer, favorite of the gods,
What will happen in my life?
And soon, to the delight of neighbors-enemies,
Will I cover myself with grave earth?
Tell me the whole truth, don't be afraid of me:
You will take a horse as a reward for anyone.
"Magi are not afraid of mighty lords,
And they do not need a princely gift;
Truthful and free is their prophetic language
And friendly with the will of heaven.
The coming years lurk in the mist;
But I see your lot on a bright forehead.
Remember now you my word:
Glory to the Warrior is a joy;
Your name is glorified by victory;
Your shield is on the gates of Tsaregrad;
And the waves and the land are submissive to you;
The enemy is jealous of such a wondrous fate.
And the blue sea is a deceptive shaft
In the hours of fatal bad weather,
And a sling, and an arrow, and a crafty dagger
Years spare the winner ...
Under formidable armor you know no wounds;
An invisible guardian is given to the mighty.
Your horse is not afraid of dangerous labors;
He, sensing the master's will,
That meek stands under the arrows of enemies,
It rushes across the battlefield.
And the cold and cutting him nothing ...
But you will accept death from your horse.
Oleg chuckled - but the forehead
And the eyes were clouded with thought.
In silence, hand leaning on the saddle,
He dismounts from his horse, sullen;
And a true friend with a farewell hand
And strokes and pats on the neck steep.
"Farewell, my comrade, my faithful servant,
The time has come for us to part;
Now rest! no more footsteps
In your gilded stirrup.
Farewell, be comforted - but remember me.
You, fellow youths, take a horse,
Cover with a blanket, shaggy carpet;
Take me to my meadow by the bridle;
Bathe; feed with selected grain;
Drink spring water."
And the youths immediately departed with the horse,
And the prince brought another horse.
The prophetic Oleg feasts with the retinue
At the ringing of a cheerful glass.
And their curls are white as morning snow
Above the glorious head of the mound ...
They remember days gone by
And the battles where they fought together ...
“Where is my friend? - said Oleg, -
Tell me, where is my zealous horse?
Are you healthy? is it still easy to run?
Is he still the same stormy, playful?
And listens to the answer: on a steep hill
He had long since passed into a sleepless sleep.
Mighty Oleg bowed his head
And he thinks: “What is fortune-telling?
Magician, you deceitful, mad old man!
I would despise your prediction!
My horse would carry me to this day."
And he wants to see the bones of the horse.
Here comes the mighty Oleg from the yard,
Igor and old guests are with him,
And they see - on a hill, near the banks of the Dnieper,
Noble bones lie;
The rains wash them, their dust falls asleep,
And the wind excites the feather grass above them.
The prince quietly stepped on the horse's skull
And he said: “Sleep, lonely friend!
Your old master has outlived you:
At the funeral feast, already close,
It's not you who will stain the feather grass under the ax
And drink my ashes with hot blood!
So that's where my death lurked!
The bone threatened me with death!”
From the dead head a grave serpent,
Hissing, meanwhile crawled out;
Like a black ribbon wrapped around the legs,
And suddenly the stung prince cried out.
Ladles are circular, foaming, hissing
At the feast of the deplorable Oleg;
Prince Igor and Olga are sitting on a hill;
The squad is feasting at the shore;
Fighters commemorate past days
And the battles where they fought together.

"Song of the Prophetic Oleg"

How the prophetic Oleg is now going
Take revenge on the unreasonable Khazars:
Their villages and fields for a violent raid
He doomed swords and fires;
With his retinue, in Constantinople armor,
The prince rides across the field on a faithful horse.

From the dark forest towards him
There is an inspired magician,
Submissive to Perun, the old man alone,
The promises of the future messenger,
In prayers and divination spent the whole century.
And Oleg drove up to the wise old man.

"Tell me, sorcerer, favorite of the gods,
What will happen in my life?
And soon, to the delight of neighbors-enemies,
Will I cover myself with grave earth?
Tell me the whole truth, don't be afraid of me:
You will take a horse as a reward for anyone.

"Magi are not afraid of mighty lords,
And they do not need a princely gift;
Truthful and free is their prophetic language
And friendly with the will of heaven.
The coming years lurk in the mist;
But I see your lot on a bright forehead,

Remember now you my word:
Glory to the Warrior is a joy;
Your name is glorified by victory;
Your shield is on the gates of Tsaregrad;
And the waves and the land are submissive to you;
The enemy is jealous of such a wondrous fate.

And the blue sea is a deceptive shaft
In the hours of fatal bad weather,
And a sling, and an arrow, and a crafty dagger
Spare the winner years ...
Under formidable armor you know no wounds;
An invisible guardian is given to the mighty.

Your horse is not afraid of dangerous labors:
He, sensing the master's will,
That meek stands under the arrows of enemies,
It rushes across the battlefield,
And the cold and cutting him nothing.
But you will accept death from your horse.

Oleg chuckled - but the forehead
And the eyes were clouded with thought.
In silence, hand leaning on the saddle,
He gets down from his horse sullen;
And a true friend with a farewell hand
And strokes and pats on the neck steep.

"Farewell, my comrade, my faithful servant,
It's time for us to part:
Now rest! no more footsteps
In your gilded stirrup.
Farewell, be comforted - but remember me.
You lads-friends, take a horse!

Cover with a blanket, shaggy carpet;
Take me to my meadow by the bridle:
Bathe, feed with selected grain;
Drink spring water."
And the youths immediately departed with the horse,
And the prince brought another horse.

The prophetic Oleg feasts with the retinue
At the ringing of a cheerful glass.
And their curls are white as morning snow
Above the glorious head of the barrow...
They remember days gone by
And the battles where they fought together...

“Where is my friend? - said Oleg, -
Tell me, where is my zealous horse?
Are you healthy? Is his run still easy?
Is he still the same stormy, playful?
And listens to the answer: on a steep hill
He had long since passed into a sleepless sleep.

Mighty Oleg bowed his head
And he thinks: “What is fortune-telling?
Magician, you deceitful, mad old man!
I would despise your prediction!
My horse would carry me to this day."
And he wants to see the bones of the horse.

Here comes the mighty Oleg from the yard,
Igor and old guests are with him,
And they see: on a hill, near the banks of the Dnieper,
Noble bones lie;
The rains wash them, their dust falls asleep,
And the wind excites the feather grass above them.

The prince quietly stepped on the horse's skull
And he said: “Sleep, lonely friend!
Your old master has outlived you:
At the funeral feast, already close,
It's not you who will stain the feather grass under the ax
And drink my ashes with hot blood!

So that's where my death lurked!
The bone threatened me with death!”
From the dead head the coffin serpent
Meanwhile, hersing crawled out;
Like a black ribbon wrapped around the legs:
And suddenly the stung prince cried out.

Ladles are circular, being lazy, hissing
At the feast of the deplorable Oleg:
Prince Igor and Olga are sitting on a hill;
The squad is feasting at the shore;
Fighters commemorate past days
And the battles where they fought together.

Pushkin's Tales: The Song of the Prophetic Oleg

Song about Prophetic Oleg

"Tell me, sorcerer, favorite of the gods,
What will happen in my life?
And soon, to the delight of neighbors-enemies,
Will I fill the grave with earth?
Tell me the whole truth, don't be afraid of me:
You will take a horse as a reward for anyone."

Your horse is not afraid of dangerous labors;
He, sensing the master's will,
That meek stands under the arrows of enemies,
It rushes across the battlefield.
And the cold and cutting him nothing ...
But you will receive death from your horse."

"Farewell, my comrade, my faithful servant,
The time has come for us to part;
Now rest! no more footsteps
In your gilded stirrup.
Farewell, be comforted - but remember me.
You, fellow youths, take a horse,

Cover with a blanket, a shaggy carpet,
Take me to my meadow by the bridle;
Bathe; feed with selected grain;
Drink spring water";
And the youths immediately departed with the horse,
And the prince brought another horse.

"Where's my comrade?" Oleg said.
Tell me, where is my zealous horse?
Are you healthy? Still, is his run easy?
Is he still the same stormy, playful?";
And listens to the answer: on a steep hill
He had long since passed into a sleepless sleep.

Mighty Oleg bowed his head
And he thinks: "What is fortune-telling?
Magician, you deceitful, mad old man!
I would despise your prediction!
My horse would still carry me."
And he wants to see the bones of the horse.

Here comes the mighty Oleg from the yard,
Igor and old guests are with him,
And they see - on a hill, near the banks of the Dnieper,
Noble bones lie;
The rains wash them, their dust falls asleep,
And the wind excites the feather grass above them.

The prince quietly stepped on the horse's skull
And he said: "Sleep, lonely friend!
Your old master has outlived you:
At the funeral feast, not far away,
It's not you who will stain the feather grass under the ax
And drink my ashes with hot blood!

So that's where my death lurked!
The bone threatened me with death!";
From the dead head a coffin snake
Meanwhile, hersing crawled out;
Like a black ribbon wrapped around the legs,
And suddenly the stung prince cried out.

More about the Khazars

Discussion text:
"The real material of the study of Khazaria gives an unambiguous conclusion - Khazaria is the most important of the progenitors of the Russian lands. Scythians-Sarmatians-Khazars-Russians are one continuous ethnic chain. Archaeologically, the cultural layers of the settlements of the Khazar times are the continuous development of the culture of people of one anthropological type, identical to the modern one, from 5 thousand years BC - until the 17th-18th centuries, when mass migration of people from the central provinces of Russia began to these lands.

In the proposed work, numerous source traces are indicated, indicating that the Khazars and Russ are, if not identical peoples, then kindred peoples.
And this is not the first time this has been done.
*** The main theorist of Slavophilism A.S. Khomyakov (1804-1860) was the first in Russia who, in the book of 1840 "Notes on world history", built the Aryan genealogy of the Russian nation, based on the idea of Scythian origin. As he writes, the Slavs are destined for a glorious future thanks to ties with the alleged homeland of white humanity - Eastern Iran, or Scythia. Khomyakov claims the territorial, linguistic and national continuity of Russian history from the Scythians described Herodotus in the 5th century BC, before the appearance of Novgorod and Kiev 1300 years later in an area stretching from ancient Bactria in Central Asia to Novgorod.To draw a space-time continuum between the first Aryans and modern Russians, Khomyakov includes in his scheme all the steppe peoples : Scythians, Sarmatians, Massagets, Wends, Antes, Huns, Bulgarians, Khazars and even Goths - he does not hesitate to call all of them "an ocean of Slavic peoples."

So why is the Khazar trace ignored by historians?
Let's make some assumptions:

1) Khazaria is unprofitable for the Slavophiles - due to the fact that Khazaria turned out to be a power with a Judaic religion. The language did not turn to record the Jews in their ancestors.

2) Khazaria turned out to be unprofitable for the Zionists. Since the Judaism of the Khazar elite, the separation of this elite from their own people, were the political cause of the decline and death of the kaganate.

3) Khazaria turned out to be unprofitable for the imperial house of the Romanovs. Since the Khazar lands of the Lower Volga became a stronghold of anti-Roman resistance with such undoubtedly bright figures as Razin and Pugachev.

4) Khazaria turned out to be unprofitable for Soviet historians. The identity of the Khazars and the Cossacks destroyed a convenient historiographic scheme about the origin of the Cossacks from fugitive serfs. I had to abandon the peasant wars so pleasant to the heart under the leadership ... And if we also take into account Lenin's decossackization ...

5) Khazaria turned out to be unprofitable for the Turkic nationalists. Since she deleted from history the significance of the Turks in the history of the Volga Bulgaria (generally speaking, ethnically - Finno-Ugric, - but, probably, with the Russian-Khazar elite). Khazaria, which warmed under the wing of the power of nomadic mercenaries as a counterbalance to its own Russian population, apparently gave rise to the subsequent rise of the Turkic steppe empires. It was not for nothing that Sarai was located in the zone of the indigenous Khazar lands - one Sarai was almost opposite the Volga-Don Isthmus, the other not far from Astrakhan.

And what does the Khazar version of Russian history give us?

1) Eastern European civilization aligns historically with all early European civilizations. Herodotus Scythians are not yet building cities, but Scythian gold is already in use. The successor of the Scythians and Sarmatians, Khazaria, is successfully fighting the Arab conquest. Exactly at the same time when the Arabs are hardly stopped by Charlemagne in the south of France. But by this time, the East Slavic ethnic community was split. The Khazar version of history fully explains the long chain of fortresses, aimed on the one hand at the defense of the Kiev-Chernigov Slavs from the Slavs-Khazars, on the other hand, the Khazar fortresses, designated for the defense of the Khazars from the Slavs of the Western Russian branch. And as soon as the Khazar fortifications were built by a powerful state, then the fortifications opposite them were built by no less powerful state conglomerate, which later became the annalistic Novgorod-Kyiv state of Ruriks.

2) The Khazar version opens up the possibility of understanding the subsequent vicissitudes of East Slavic history. Namely. The split of the Eastern Slavs into opposing camps led to a shift in borders. The campaign of Svyatoslav, who defeated the Kaganate, temporarily united all the Eastern European lands in a single ethnically homogeneous state. Without eliminating the culture and significance of the eastern part. Subsequently, the baton of the struggle for influence on the Russian plain passed to Vladimir-Suzdal Rus, closely connected along the Volga with Bulgaria and the Khazar (Cossack) lands. The capture of Kyiv by Andrei Bogolyubsky in 1169 can be considered as a reverse swing of the pendulum. The transfer of historical initiative to the eastern branch of the Russian people. Based on the economy of the Volga region and income from the Volga trade route.

The murder of Andrei Bogolyubsky can be seen as a convulsive attempt to seize the initiative. No wonder some historians connect this murder with the activities of the order Germans. And the power of the western group of Russian principalities from ancient times was in close contact with the previously related Slavic German princes. And with the Western Slavic rulers. Actively participating in Western European politics. Including claims to the Hungarian crown. Including the marriage of the daughter of Yaroslav the Wise to the French king.

The death of Andrei Bogolyubsky restored the pro-Western orientation of the Vladimir-Suzdal lands. And only the punitive campaign of Batu returned the control of the Volga Rus-Horde over the Vladimir lands.
And before that, with whom did the Horde fight on the Kalka? - with the princes of Kyiv and Chernigov.

Here is the bridge! Not God knows where the Mongols came from! And the same Cossacks-Khazars, who got stronger to restore the status quo that was destroyed more than two centuries ago. Moreover, in this case, the traditional allied ties between the Cossacks and the Turks turn out to be completely normal. In Khazaria, the Turks were a hired cavalry army under the supreme ruler. And they have not gone anywhere - the time has come to fight - they became part of the Tyuk-Cossack troops - the Horde. After Kalka, the traditional dominance in Bulgaria was restored. Restored sovereignty over Vladimir. And only then - a crushing campaign against Kyiv and Europe.

And here it is Fomenko's version - the Turkic-Cossack Horde. Here it is Gumilev's strategic alliance of Rus' and the steppe against the German "Drang nach Osten".
Here they are multiple cities with the root Sar along the Volga. And no devils! Mongols from the banks of Onon and Kerulen are simply not needed. the Tatar conquest of the state of Khorezmshahs is nothing more than a continuation of the same internal war in which the Khazars = Cossacks, with the help of the traditionally allied cavalry of the nomads, restored sovereignty over the territory that had broken away from the Khazars. The very name Khorezm, by the way, is connected by a number of authors with the Khazars. The defeat of Khorezm is just the restoration of the front of the already traditional struggle against the separatists of the Arab-Persian Muslim community, which split the German-Slavic-Iranian Aryan empire. The center of which, apparently, was all the same Khazaria.

And immediately an unusual fact becomes natural. The Horde tsars-khans gave labels to the reign of Vladimir. But they did not give the princes of Vladimir labels for the reign of Kiev. With the traditional historical version, this is not entirely logical. If the Horde is something that has come, then all of Rus' acts as an ulus of the Horde, which desires a single administration. But if the Horde is nothing more than a continuation of the history of Russian Khazaria, then Saray considers himself a legitimate contender for the Kiev table. The line of confrontation between the East and West of the Russian Plain traditionally passed in the steppe, approaching Kyiv. And why manage Kiev through the remote Vladimir, when he is right at hand. Traditionally, the Khazar Slavic lands of the Lower Don smoothly pass into the lands of the Seversk Slavs and into the lands of the Slavs living in Kyiv. Another thing is the distant Zalessky Rus. This is where the delegation of power is needed. And here - direct control within the framework of a single people.

From the Khazar version follows the traditional Byzantine Church of Central Russia against the hesitation between Rome and Constantinople in Ukraine and Lithuania. Byzantium is the most ancient ally of Khazaria. natural ally. And against the Muslims of the south, and against the Western European barbarians. strike force the latter, directed against both Byzantium and Khazaria, were regularly attacked by the Slavs of the Kievan-Novgorod state connected with the West.

Khazaria - indicates the existence of a historical pendulum on the Russian Plain. The swing of which conveys dominance over the Russian lands either to the eastern or to the western branch of the ruling elites. The economic strength of the Volga-Urals-North Caucasus region is the basis for the Eastern elite to seize the initiative and expand the Slavic empire to the West, South and East. On the contrary, the loss of this power is accompanied by the strengthening of the Western elite - and the breaking away from the empire of controlled territories. And in Central Asia. And in the West. With the subsequent fragmentation of these territories and resubordination to the influence of other centers.